


Fuck Me Up (Where Dad Can Watch)

by leonheart2012



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Danger Kink, Just some gay porn, Knife Kink, M/M, Masturbation, No Spoilers, Not Cannonically Compliant, Porn Without Plot, Revenge, Stalker Jesper?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 19:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonheart2012/pseuds/leonheart2012
Summary: Jesper knows there's something wrong with him, but doesn't know what it is until he meets Wylan, and Wylan knows he's done for when he starts falling for the thief, but when he offers what Wylan wants, who is he to refuse?I just started reading this series and oh man, Jesper definitely has a danger kink, and is so gay, and I loved it so much that I simply had to!I hope you all like it :)





	Fuck Me Up (Where Dad Can Watch)

Jesper had always known there was something wrong with him, but he’d never been able to pinpoint exactly what it was. When he’d turned ten and started gazing at men in the way his mother looked at his father, he’d thought it might have been that, but that had felt like the wrong answer. What was wrong with him ran even deeper than who he wanted to bed; it was a part of his soul.

So, when he’d met Wylan, the sweet young mercher’s boy, he’d wanted to steer clear, not wanting to corrupt him with his secret black mark. Even so, Wylan’s smarts and proud attitude had brought him in. It also helped that he looked like he needed saving all the time.

Once, while he’d been... _not_ following him...he’d actually been forced to rescue him or watch him die. Jesper’s goodness had vanished from years with the Dregs, but he’d still snatched his outstretched hand and pulled him to his feet, yelling at him to run. His heart had raced then, and he’d laughed in delight at the rush.

In saving the boy he’d fallen for, he’d found out his soul’s secret; he loved danger. The time he spent in his own company that night had been ten times as intense as it had ever been; he’d been elated with the discovery, and his heart had pounded, his erection throbbing, as he remembered the rush of adrenaline that had coursed through him when he’d snatched up Wylan’s soft mercher’s hand.

Wylan had found him in a compromising position that night, having made his way to Jesper’s room, wanting to thank him for saving his life. His cheeks had coloured, his eyes growing wide as he turned away, apologising profusely. Jesper had laughed at his back as he’d sprinted down the stairs, feeling only slightly disappointed that Wylan hadn’t joined in.

The next few meetings had been somewhat awkward on Wylan’s end, who couldn’t bring himself to look in Jesper’s eyes, or even his direction for more than a few seconds.

Finally, taking pity on him, Jesper had pulled him aside. “Wylan,” he’d said softly, draping an arm over his shoulder, bringing their faces close together, “you’re going to have to get over it sometime. So, let’s just do it. Let me fuck you, and we’ll go on our merry ways.”

Wylan’s eyes had bulged out of their sockets, and Jesper had laughed himself silly, walking away with a wave of his hand.

 

Jesper drew him in like a drug. Wylan was absolutely powerless to stop it. If his father had known...well, he did know, and he’d made his position on it very clear. He’d never looked at one of the letters his father sent, but he assumed that they would all say the same thing; there would be no apology, just an askance that he return. But if he took his father up on that offer, his father would require he shut away a part of himself – the part that was desperately craving Jesper Fahey.

The Van Eck residence stood, unchanged from the time when he’d resided within those walls. It frustrated him. He wanted for some outward evidence of his departure – perhaps a wing crumbled or a wall painted black in note of his absence, but no, his father’s life wouldn’t be put on hold while he mourned the loss of his son.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, he chided himself. Why did he always come by here? What was he trying to do? It always just made it hurt more.

A familiar lanky figure stepped from the shadows. “What are you doing, Wylan?” Jesper asked, his teeth showing behind his dark lips. Unconsciously, Wylan licked his thin ones.

“None of your business.”

Jesper stepped closer. “Could it be that you were checking in on someone? Does a young mercher’s girl have your heart, Wylan?”

“No.”

“Good.” Jesper said, stepping even closer. “I would hate to know our flirtations meant nothing to you.”

Wylan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop his heart from almost leaping out of his chest. Would today be the day? “Maybe I just figured you would never act on your words, Jesper. You could flirt until I died of blue balls.”

“Oh?” The tall boy stepped ever closer, like he was a cat closing in on helpless prey. Wylan didn’t want to, but he stepped back, closer to the wall. “Is that an invitation, mercher?”

Wylan tilted his chin up in mock defiance. “Just do it already.”

Before he could even think, Jesper had him pressed up against the wall, his long fingers pressing against Wylan’s wrists almost painfully, leaving him chained to the brick. Wylan’s breath left him in a rush before he gasped, Jesper’s lips attaching to the pulse point in his neck, teeth grazing against the vulnerable skin. The rush he felt from the fear was indecent; it all flooded south, pooling in his groin.

Jesper’s knee brushed against his crotch, and Wylan felt his lips smile against his skin. “I knew it.” He whispered. “You get off on it too, don’t you?”

“Wh-what?”

“The danger, the adrenaline; it excites you.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s different for you, though. I get off on a fight, on the idea I might die, by you like the fear that comes with wanting to live.” He pressed his lips back to Wylan’s skin, sucking, biting and licking at his neck. “Well, I just came from a fight with Kaz, and I’ve got you trapped, so let’s have a little fun.”

Wylan’s pulse skyrocketed as Jesper’s fingers found his buttons, his shirt falling open, Jesper’s fingers pushing at the fabric until it was pooled at their feet. Jesper’s shirt was the next to go, and he kissed lower, over Wylan’s collar bones. When Wylan went to touch Jesper, though, a sharp blade caressed the skin of his neck.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jesper growled, the sound going straight down, all the way to his toes, leaving his body tingling.

He whimpered. “Jes...Jesper, oh, please don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

The taller boy was already on his knees, but his eyes flicked up, looking Wylan in the face when he gave his next command. “Don’t move, or I’ll gut you and leave you here to rot, mercher.”

The knife disappeared from his neck, moving to his trousers, which he cut away with practised ease. Wylan felt a twinge of jealousy; how many others had Jesper cornered like this, looking to get his fix? He didn’t have much time to feel it, though, because Jesper’s slender fingers were wrapping around his aching cock, stroking loosely. Wylan shuddered, his legs going limp.

No one had ever touched him, not even the instructor he’d been seen with. The man had been adamant that he would never be seen sleeping with a student, even though they’d both been desperate for it. He’d been okay with hugs and kissing, but anything beyond was…

“Ah!” Wylan gasped, trying hard not to clench down on the intrusion. “Give a guy some warning next time!”

“Shh!” Jesper snapped, moving his fingers slowly. “Don’t want anyone else to hear us, do we?”

Wylan bit down on his lip. He actually _did_ want someone to hear them. His eyes flicked over to his father’s estate with angry thoughts. _No, you should hear this, father. You should_ see _it. See how wonderful this is, how good it feels, see how much I love it, and know that I’ll never come crawling back for as long as I live, you bastard._

Jesper’s eyes followed his, and a sad smile came to his face. “Would you want to pound on his door only to spit in his face?”

“Yes! Yes, I want to watch the hope die in his eyes when he sees me getting fucked by you and loving it. I want to have him walk by and think that _maybe_ , I’ve come back, only to see the man behind me, and watch him realise that I-”

His voice was cut off by a particularly harsh thrust of Jesper’s fingers, right up against something that made him see stars. He cried out, not caring who heard, keeping his arms pressed against the wall, but thrusting his hips forward, looking for more.

“Don’t worry; he’ll see one day. Maybe not tonight, but one day, he’ll be walking the street with a whole entourage of diplomats, and you’ll look him in the eye as I’m fucking you and, casual as anything, you’ll greet him as a son greets his father, and watch as his face heats in shame.”

“Jesper,” Wylan’s voice was pathetically small in his throat, but the image was doing wondrous things to him. He couldn’t help but crave it. Humiliating his father was worth everything, more than money, more than simple revenge; it would be the best moment of his life.

The fingers disappeared from him, and Jesper stood again. His hands found his shoulders in the growing darkness of dusk. Jesper’s warm lips closed over his own and he pressed Wylan closer to the wall, crowding him until he was flush against it. The taller boy’s slender fingers curled around his naked thighs, lifting them, spreading them, and then there was the delicious feeling of a hard cock finally pressing into him, through the puckered muscle of his ass.

Wylan moaned into Jesper’s mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. His arms finally left the wall, snaking around Jesper’s thin but strong shoulders, which were now supporting Wylan’s entire weight. With each thrust, the breath was punched out of him, the feelings so intense they were nearly blinding.

Then, from the mouth of an alley, there was a voice. So familiar. So hateful. “Wylan?”

He turned his head, and his eyes found his father’s. With absolutely no shame, Wylan moaned, pulling Jesper tighter against himself. “Oh, Jesper, don’t stop!” His eyes never left his father’s face, watching in delight as the realisation hit him, then the shock, then the disbelief, his jaw going slack and then working furiously before going slack again.

Catching on, Jesper’s deep voice groaned in his ear. “Wylan, baby. You feel so good. Damn.” He thrust faster, and the moan Wylan let out this time was real, echoing off the walls of the alley. Jesper’s mouth opened wide and bit down on Wylan’s shoulder, drawing blood.

“Ah! Jesper!” Wylan came hard, his eyes finally squeezing shut. When he opened them, his father had fled. Jesper’s strong arms lowered him to the dirty ground, where he started helping him redress.

“Did we have an audience?” He asked quietly, pressing a quick kiss to his temple.

Wylan nodded, too out of breath to answer properly.

Jesper chuckled. “Well, I hope they enjoyed the show.”


End file.
